


jaded

by nightdotlight



Series: (not quite gold) [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Flash Fic, One Shot, Other, Pre-The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, alternate title: the stoning of kai jin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 13:09:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightdotlight/pseuds/nightdotlight
Summary: from the perspective of narnia; the incarceration of their Architect, and his eventual death at the hands of the usurper Queen.





	jaded

They cried as they heard the news.

 

Their Architect had been taken by the Queen, loathe as they were to call her such a title.

 

Even after her power had plunged them into winter what felt like an eternity before but that could only have been around a week ago, their initial reactions of fear and submission had been overturned by the mere boy, whose refusal to accept her as monarch had galvanised their own courage.

 

It was noble, they thought that he had been so willing to make himself a symbol against the cataclysmic power of Jadis, refusing to acknowledge her power or superiority. Against the bitterly cold presence of the Witch, Kai Jin had stood like a beacon of sunlight, his unwavering belief in the true King a torch unwilling to flicker despite the howling of the winter’s wind.

 

Now, that torch was dangerously close to forced extinguishment, as the boy who carried it had been dragged into the castle of the White Witch for questioning.

 

‘Questioning’. _Ha,_ they thought.

 

No Narnian was omnipotent— but truly, they knew the truth of what would happen to him.

 

He would not be questioned.

 

After all, how could you extract answers from someone who refused to acknowledge your power over them?

 

Fortunately, it was sure that Jadis would know this crucial fact, likely the only the thing keeping her from subjecting him to unimaginable pain.

 

This knowledge was what kept the Narnians defiant— the knowledge that hopefully, their Architect was okay, his own defiance his saving grace. It warmed them, melting the ice of despair. Through their own resistance, they hoped, they could galvanise his for one day longer.

 

For some, it was the only thing keeping them going. These were the Narnians that had witnessed the scene in person, the morning of the Architect’s incarceration. The tide of people, only held back by the threats of white teeth and flashing claws, growls rumbling in the back of the wolves’ throat even as more of their number sank their teeth into the young boy. He was barely thirteen, yet they dragged him along with the force one would use against a giant or minotaur, tearing his clothes and flesh alike.

 

Even then, he had defied Jadis— though tears rushed in a torrent down his checks, his clenched jaw and gritted teeth were plain to see, as well as the message behind it.

 

He would not make a sound, would not cry out. To do so would be to acknowledge Jadis, even though this defiance was the reason that more snow was stained red, the contrast startling even as the slight form of the boy eventually crumpled and was dragged away, his body leaving a track in the snow.

 

The sad scene had taken place only two weeks ago, yet it felt like forever.

 

All of Narnia waited with bated breath— for news reassuring or tragic, they were not sure.

 

News filtered through the walls of the palace, rumours whispered among the trees, that Kai Jin’s spirit remained unbroken, that he had not spoken a word since his internment in the dungeons, that his skin— though still pale with cold and blood loss— was not marred by any new bruises.

 

It did not stay as optimistic for long, however.

 

A month following his imprisonment, the Architect finally spoke to the Queen for the first time.

 

Yet, his words were not warm, instead carrying with them fire and vitriol in the face of the usurper. Kai Jin did not acknowledge Jadis’ power, but instead ratified that of Aslan, defiant even in the face of unimaginable force.

 

Truly, it seemed that he believed her without power; but for the people of Narnia, dread still hung heavy in the back of the subconscious. Surely, he could not keep this up for long.

 

Nobody likes to be proven right about such a thing, but unfortunately only a week following, such a plight befell Narnia.

 

Fresh tears were shed across the land, this time of grief at the news.

 

The Queen emerged from the palace for the first time in months, bringing with her a triumphant smirk and tangible proof of her power as a sorceress.

 

Kai Jin, his skin now granite, his eyes blank stone, his heart still, his lungs devoid of any breath.

 

He had been petrified.

 

He was only the first— the first of many.

 

Still, there was a single detail that mixed anger with the sorrow imbued in each tear shed over the boy.

 

Despite his fate, the Architect had never submitted, that much was plain to see. Written on the cold stone of his face was a story of defiance and refusal, as well as belief so strong it could only have been made upon foundations of what now made up his body— pure granite, forged by the heart and pressure of the earth.

 

Whispers spread once more across the land— this time not of his words, but of his actions.

 

For generations, the story of the young boy would be told, beginning to ending, to every child born until he became near legend for his iron will and sharp mind.

 

The Architect was dead, yes, but even in his petrification he refused to submit, nor had he ever until his death:  _for after all_ _,_ the parents would whisper,  _his last action did not allow the Queen any satisfaction, nor any dignity._

 

His fate could have been different, had he not provoked her ire with his final acts.

 

Stories would forever circulate of the scene.

 

Kai Jin, forced on to his knees before the usurper, strong hands that had pushed his forehead into the ice of the floor pulling his frame up to face the Witch as her fingertips traced his jawline, coming to hold his chin: the frost as it formed patterns on his cheekbones, brought on by the agonising cold.

 

Her ultimatum.

 

She wanted Cair Paravel, and he had locked it. But if he only relinquished its protection, he would not only live, he would be her King in the new order of Narnia, more powerful than Aslan could ever make him. He would be healed (for bite wounds still marred his skin), and protected, and loved by all the land.

 

Regardless of his injuries or the inherent danger, knowing full well that this could be his last day on Earth, Kai Jin had refused in the most disrespectful way he could think of.

 

He had spat in her face.

 

That day, the reign of the White Witch claimed its first victim, yet it gave something in return for the life taken.

 

Despite the life stolen from its people, all was not lost.

 

That day, Narnia gained its first martyr.


End file.
